In Port-au-Prince, the common Haitian practice of constantly singing and praying out loud sounded so strange to the two nurses from Milton. It was stranger still to discover, amid terrible destruction, that Haitians sang songs of thanks.

In Port-au-Prince, the common Haitian practice of constantly singing and praying out loud sounded so strange to the two nurses from Milton.

It was stranger still to discover, amid terrible destruction, that Haitians sang songs of thanks.

“They have nothing and they’re still thanking God, thanking him that they still had each other,” said Jacksis Cassagnol. Recently, she and her sister returned from an earthquake relief effort in Haiti where they dispensed medicine, bandaged wounds and assisted with surgery for two weeks.

Born in Haiti, both sisters had emigrated from Haiti to the U.S. in 1982 when their father sought asylum. Now they live in Milton and work as nurses. Jacksis Cassagnol, 34, is a single mother of three children, ages 17, 11 and 7, who works at Brockton Hospital. Her sister, Geimima Cassagnol Etienne, 39, is a nurse at The Sherill House in Jamaica Plain.

The two went to Haiti as part of a volunteer medical team through Angel Missions Haiti, a faith-based organization.

When their plane made a bumpy landing on a grassy strip Jan. 29, it had been more than two decades since they had seen Port-au-Prince, their childhood home. The earthquake damage was overwhelming.

“You could see two homes next to each other, one completely in rubble and one completely intact. People were everywhere; you couldn’t drive without thinking you would hit somebody,’’ said Cassagnol. “Traffic was horrendous. There were street kids who had no homes. They’d come to our car, asking for water or food. They were in dirty rags, they had no place to go, nothing to wear. I thought of my own kids if they were in that position. That was the worst thing I saw in Haiti.”

Street vendors offered trinkets, fruits and other wares for sale. Earthquake rubble and uncollected garbage was everywhere but sellers had a daily ritual.

“Even though trash was all around them, they kept their own little spot clean by sweeping the dirt with a broom,” said Etienne.

It was humbling to assist Haitians whose families, friends and neighbors had been crushed to death, they said. Homes toppled, and meager possessions were destroyed. So many had suffered injuries. People were too frightened to sleep indoors for fear of another earthquake. Often, it was a struggle to find the next bottle of water. Yet even the poorest shared what they had.

“It was the community who provided the patients with food,’’ Cassagnol said. ‘‘It was the community who took in the homeless. There’s a lot of togetherness in Haiti.”

Angel Missions Haiti operates a clinic that opened at 8 a.m. and closed at 4 p.m. Because of the lack of electricity, it wasn’t safe to treat people in the dark. The two sisters were among five medical volunteers who worked almost nonstop to treat 150 to 200 people waiting in line, often for hours, in 86-degree heat every day.

Page 2 of 2 - Because of poverty, medical care is a last resort for most Haitians, who apply self-remedies or wait things out, Etienne said. In one case, a man’s wounded arm had grown rock-hard with infected swelling before he finally came to the clinic, where she treated him with antibiotics.

“It was so bad he could have died. Another day and he might have gone into sepsis,” she said.

When were they most frightened?

For Etienne, it was when a five-month-pregnant woman had to have her big toe amputated. Though medicated during the surgery, the young woman would stir. Her blood pressure skyrocketed to 225 over 113 and she was later taken to a hospital.

“I had never seen an amputation before, especially under those conditions,” Etienne said.

Her sister said a false rumor circulated that food was being given out at the clinic. Luckily a worker was able to calm things down.

“A crowd almost broke through the gate during clinic hours. There was a lot of commotion,” said Cassagnol.

At night, lying on thin mattresses, listening to Haitians singing in the distance, Etienne had few distractions and found “time for long conversations with God.”

Haitians had so little yet they displayed such patience and grace. It moved Etienne to rethink the materialism and all the built-in expectations for successful trappings.

“Life is better when you take it one day at a time. I don’t need to conform to societal norms,” she said.

There was irony in her sister’s lesson. Time spent in a place ravaged by natural disaster cured Cassagnol of chronic worry. It was the Haitian singing that sparked such healing. At dawn, she’d awaken to singing. At night, those same songs of praise wafted through the window and reassured her. She witnessed how victims felt armored by their indestructible faith.

“It made my own faith stronger. God knows what he’s doing. It doesn’t matter whether you understand it. What matters is that you know he’s in control. These people are worshipping God regardless of what happens. You can’t worry about what’s going to happen. It taught me to be grateful for what I have,” she said.

Suzette Martinez Standring is the award-winning author of ‘‘The Art of Column Writing’’ and is syndicated with GateHouse News. She teaches writing workshops nationally. E-mail her at suzmar@comcast.net.